Sparkie and the Vertically Different Brotherhood: Part III

The Vertically Different Brothers returned from their day’s labour to find Sparkie spread-eagled on the floor. Try as they might, they could not wake her.

Vertically Different Brother Grumpy (who had never been fond of Sparkie and had strongly resisted all her attempts to make him change his name to Temperamentally Different) said, “Well, what now? Anyone fancy running like the wind to the fairy godmother’s cottage and asking her to sort it out?”

The Brothers stood in uncomfortable silence. None of them wanted to be the first to point out that running like the wind through ten miles of thick forest shrubbery was the kind of thing meant for people who were Vertically Different in the opposite direction.

“I propose,” Vertically Different Brother Doc said at last, “that we start a campaign. It’s what Sparkie would have done. The Queen is responsible for this, and the Queen must find a way to wake her.”

The Brothers built a plinth outside their house and laid Sparkie on it, and then stood around it brandishing boards demanding that the Queen send for the most experienced fairy godmothers in the realm to cure Sparkie. Along with them were two deer, a brown dog, a parrot, three cats and a duck, all of whom stood to have hard-won rights revoked if Sparkie were not there to plead their cause.

However, since gold does not mine itself, the Vertically Different Brothers had to abandon their vigil after a couple of days and return to their shovels and pickaxes. They were swiftly followed by the three cats, who decided that in any case dozing on warm rugs with saucers of cream was more important than having the right to their own law board.

By the time the lone figure on the proud black stallion approached the glade, it was empty except for Sparkie’s prone form and the parrot.

As the horse neared, it was possible to see that the rider was the kind of man who would never have appealed to Sparkie at all. He was probably the most different creature in all humanity. He had an imposing figure and noble bearing, and the wisdom gleaming in his sculpted face would have put Socrates to shame.

He leapt lightly from his horse.

“What fair maid is this?” he asked.

“Equal rights for feathered friends,” said the parrot, which had never been taught to say anything else.